Page 4 of The Way We Swing Back

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but your ugly face did.” He marched over, shoved the popcorn into my chest, and forced me to hold it, making it impossible for me to pick up my shoes. “We can go to the basement now; everyone’s almost ready.” He picked up my shoes himself and put as much distance between us as he could, laughing.

“I have to—”

He spun around, yelling upstairs, “TANNER! EASTON’S TRYING TO LEAVE!”

Fantastic. The little gremlin never stopped.

A thunk and a groan came from above, then Tanner appeared at the top of the stairs, his bushy blonde hair damp from a shower, wearing a wrinkled T-shirt I thought I’d seen him pack two hours ago. His eyes flicked to me, locking in. He didn’t say a word. Just waited.

I smiled at him, the best way I knew to make him stop arguing with me through his eyes.

Zach emerged from the kitchen, grinning with a bag of Skittles in his hands. Where Gavin was Tanner’s mini-me, Zach more closely resembled Mr. Quinn—darker hair, the strongest person in the room, and a jaw that could take a punch but live to tell the tale. “Seriously, dude? You’re going to bail on movie night?”

“I wasn’t bailing,” I muttered. “I just didn’t want to intrude on Tanner’s last night.”

Gavin stopped halfway across the room and twisted toward me. “Intrude on what? You’re always here. Tanner’s moving, like, a block away; we’ll see him in two days.”

“But still,” I said, my hands flexing.

“Besides,” Zach said, tossing pieces of candy in his mouth, “I picked out the perfect movie for us to watch.”

“And what’s that?” I said.

“It’s called The Final Season. It’s about a high school baseball team that actually wins the state title. Figured we could live through them.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Tanner said, throwing the comb he was holding over the banister at Zach.

“I will kill you,” I said, flashes of the game circling my brain.

Zach scampered out of the room, avoiding the slew of insults we threw at him. Zach had been on the team, but he had gotten over the loss much quicker than we had. I’d apologized to Tanner multiple times since the game, and he’d kept telling me it wasn’t my fault.

I wasn’t sure I believed him. If I were Tanner, the person who made the last out would be scum for life to me.

“Stop thinking about the game,” Tanner said, grabbing my shoulder, and every nerve in my arm stood at attention. “Let’s go fuck Zach up.”

And just like that, the three of them circled me again—no grand gestures, not saying anything too big, just not letting me spin out of their orbit.

I followed Tanner into the basement, Gavin’s giggles leading the way. Zach sat on the loveseat, and Gavin jumped into one of the movie theater chairs; pieces of popcorn fell over the top of the bowl as he settled.

“You want some Skittles, East?” Zach said, holding the bag out to me as Tanner dimmed the lights. I grabbed a couple; the stickiness against my fingers was my least favorite part of Zach’s favorite candy.

“Easton,” Gavin said, pointing to the couch. “You and Tanner can have the couch tonight.”

I sat on the far end, and Tanner settled against a cushion facing me. He made eye contact with me again as I cuddled with my pillow, looking ready to make a confession the night before he left.

Gavin, unable to stop moving, shattered the moment by jumping to his feet. He went behind the couch and returned with a single red blanket big enough to cover a queen-sized bed. “You two can share; I’ve only got one for you,” he said, dropping it between us.

Zach snorted. “Give it a rest, you idiot.”

Gavin’s ears went as red as the blanket as he found his seat. “Shut up, Zach!”

Tanner shot me a look—half apology, half amusement. Then he nudged my foot, and a spark shot up my leg. “You good?”

My throat tightened as the music from the opening credits turned on. “Yeah.”